In the Middle of the Night
by lunarism
Summary: Roy sneaks over to Riza's apartment on the nights that he can. But pretending is painful for both of them, so they forget about it the only way they know how. Angsty Roy/Riza smut.


**A/N: **Damn fraternisation laws. Get me every time. But I mean, they have sex so I guess that almost makes up for the heartbreaking situation they're in, right?

Wrong. I want to punch the Amestrian government in the face.

* * *

Outside the window, snow drifted lazily down from the night sky. Outside the window, the streetlamps glittered, seven floors below. Outside the window, the city was enveloped in the sort of peace that Riza Hawkeye knew she'd never find.

She pulled off her uniform, the buttons and zippers an instinctive dance for her fingers. Left in just a loose tank top and her underwear, she shivered in the chill. Switching on the heat, she set water to boil for tea, and fed the whimpering dog at her feet.

"Good boy, Hayate," she cooed, ruffling his ears. But as much as much as she loved Hayate, he didn't make the snowy night any less lonely. She supposed she should be used to it by now, the loneliness punctuated by a few hours of company, only to make the loneliness worse again when it was over.

As if on cue, she heard a knock on her door, a knock so familiar that she knew it was Roy Mustang just by the rhythm and the weight on the wood.

"I don't know why you still bother knocking, sir," she told him as she opened the door, "You practically live here."

"It's gentlemanly to knock on a lady's door."

"Shut up," she said as she twined her hands in his hair and gave him a long kiss. She melted into him, the sting of ice on his jacket sending shivers down her spine. He picked her up as she wrapped her legs around him. Gripping the backs of her thighs, he carried her to the kitchen and set her down on the table.

"The kettle's singing," she murmured against his lips.

"I don't care."

"I do," she chastised, smiling as they broke apart. Slipping down from the table and placing one more kiss on the corner of his jaw, Riza took the kettle off the stove. Roy wanted English breakfast with one spoonful of sugar and no milk – she didn't even bother asking, knowing what the answer would be. She liked chamomile. As she crossed the kitchen for sugar, Roy placed a hand on her arm. His brows furrowed.

"Sir?"

"Riza. I hate this. I sneak over to your flat the rare times that I can, but it's not enough. Not for either of us. I hate that the only time I can tell you I love you is in the middle of the night when we're sure no one can see us. I hate that you call me sir. I hate that I have to pretend you're nothing more to me than an assistant. What if we just…what if we just gave up on pretending?"

Riza was sure her shock was written across her face. An impossible daydream wasn't worth the risk. "I can't let you sacrifice everything over me."

"You _are_ everything, don't you understand that?" he said, shaking his head. "I've seen that look on your face. You think I don't notice it, but I do. You look so lonely and so sad and I _hate _that I can't do anything about it!"

Riza pressed her face in his chest, afraid she was wearing that look again right now, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding tight.

"One day," she promised, looking up. "One day we can stop pretending. But not yet."

He pressed his mouth to hers, hard. It was an angry kiss, angry at the rules that drove them apart once the sun came up. He dragged his teeth along her lower lip, slipping his tongue inside her open mouth. They stumbled into the bedroom, banging against the walls but unwilling to draw apart. Riza dragged Roy's coat from his shoulders, tore off his uniform jacket, and began to unbutton the white shirt underneath. Her own shirt was pulled roughly over her head, and she felt his hands grasp at her chest, still cold from the winter winds. They fell onto the edge of the bed Riza hadn't bothered to make for this very reason.

She kissed her way down Roy's chest, dragging her tongue across the waistband of his trousers. Kneeling before him, she undid the zipper slowly, agonizingly slowly on purpose. He stiffened as her hands brushed across him. Tugging off his trousers and his boxers in one smooth motion, Riza stroked her fingertips down his length.

He gasped out, "Fuck, Riza."

"Isn't that the point?" she answered. She wrapped a hand around him, moving up and down, getting faster until his eyes closed and he let out a groan. Leaning forward, she ran her tongue along the underside. Slowly, she took all of him into her mouth, swirling her tongue along the head softly before sucking hard, then swirling her tongue again. His hands fisted in her hair as she poked out the tip of her tongue to circle around the head, then dragged it flat along the underside again.

"Riza, I'm close…" he said, breathing heavily.

She took him in her mouth again and sucked hard, then dragged her teeth down lightly before repeating her actions. He stiffened, reaching the edge and releasing into her mouth. She kept sucking as he released, and his hands tangled in her hair into knots so tight it hurt. When he finished, Roy lay back on the bed for a moment, panting. Riza climbed up beside him.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" he told her.

"Well, that would be unfortunate, considering I'm your bodyguard."

He propped himself on his hands above her and said, "Dying at your hands wouldn't be too bad." He nibbled down her jaw and collarbone, and reaching her breast, took the peak in his mouth, sucking and nipping in turns. Riza sighed at feeling of his warm mouth on her. A hand wandered down her torso and along her inner thigh, coming closer and closer and finally stroking against her folds.

The familiar feel of his lips and his hands eliciting a moan, making up for all the times they couldn't be there. He slid down, stopping the nibble at her hipbone before following the crease of her thigh down to the apex of her legs. He found her clit with his tongue, sucking gently, then harder, then gently again. He was driving her to the edge but refusing to let her fall off the cliff, and she was going to go insane.

"Please…" she whined, but she just felt Roy grin against her as he lightened the pressure to mere taps on her clit with his tongue. She growled in the back of her throat, and shuddered when he slipped two fingers inside her, sucking hard again. Curling his fingers up, he found the spot that drove her insane, and in a moment she would –

But he withdrew his fingers and his mouth again. She growled louder this time, annoyed until she felt the head of his length pressing against her, easing in, agonizingly slowly. She would have none of it.

"Not fast enough," Riza whispered as she flipped them over, the speed of it causing Roy to thrust up inside her. He sat up, drawing her into a kiss and wrapping his arms around her waist. She wriggled her hips and his eyes went wide. Beginning to move, she drew herself up then slid down hard, never getting enough of the feeling of him, filling her up. She kept moving, kept slamming down on him until she felt herself draw tight, a shudder racking up her spine. She buried her face in his neck as she came, every muscle tensing up in pleasure.

Before the feeling ebbed away, though, Roy pushed her back down on the mattress, holding her wrists in his hands. He thrust hard into her, hard and fast. She opened her eyes to find his boring down into hers. She felt like she was drowning in them. They turned into everything, swallowing her up into the black. His eyes and the thrusts of his hips were the only things left. She came again, clenching; the tethers on control snapped. Her back arched and her body no longer felt like her own, and he was still driving into her. Finally, he too released with a gasp. Pulling out of her and rolling over onto the bed, they lay on their backs beside each other until they could breathe normally again.

Riza lay her head on his chest, and his arms wound around her, drawing her close. Neither of them spoke. She rather thought words were irrelevant at this point. Everything. They were everything to each other, and they couldn't be. And how do you speak when that heaviness hangs between you, when your bodies stop disguising the loneliness of being together? Snow still fell outside the window, and the streetlamps glittered seven floors below. But, however fleeting, in the halfway place between asleep and awake, Riza Hawkeyefound some sort of peace.


End file.
